Japanese Doll
by Dark Sadistic Angel
Summary: Young Heero - a glimpse of his earlier training.


JAPANESE DOLL

By Dark Sadistic Angel

Character POV of Young Heero. Disclaimers apply.

It was always at the back of him, watching him. Waiting. He could always feel it's stare on his back, burning a hole through his heart from the reverse side. The lead tip of his pencil broke again. He lifted up the pacer and clicked the back of it. Clik. Clik. A thin grey lead slid out from the tiny metal tunnel. He smiled grimly, and placed the new lead again to the sheet of paper before him. He continued sketching.  
The image before him was rough, it's shape not fully formed yet. But the subject was clearly recognisable. Kilck. The tip broke again from the excessive pressure he exerted on the sheet. Swearing softly, he tossed the plastic pacer away before him. It clattered on the desk and rolled to a stop before a small hand mirror. Inside the mirror, he could see the small reflection of himself. And the thing behind him.  
He reached down underneath the desk and pulled out a drawer. Without taking his eyes from the mirror, he pulled out an ordinary pencil. Then he began to draw again. The image sharpened. An hour passed and the sketch became no longer a sketch. It became a grey scaled down size of what he saw in the mirror placed before him. After one last stoke, Heero placed down his pencil.  
'It is finished.'  
His voice echoed in the bare room. He held out the picture before him, comparing the grey image on the white page with the colour image reflecting off the rectangle of the mirror. Two small images of himself looked back at him from behind a desk. Behind him was a cupboard, the glassware and porcelain contents in it clearly outlined. And in fullest detail, was a tiny doll on top of the cupboard. Blank eyes looked out from the images. Heero shuddered as he met them.  
'I'm not like that.'  
He swung around violently, and glared at the real doll upon the cupboard behind him. It looked down on him, perched up high on its pedestal. The Japanese doll looked contemptuous at his remark. Sharp black eyes glared back at him from underneath a straight fringe, it's glassy beads glistening with malice.  
'I'm not like you.'  
Is that so? The doll seem to say. It's blood red lips almost curled.  
Heero reached down again beneath his desk. However he did not pull out the same drawer devoted to stationary as he did previously. Instead, he pulled the drawer beneath it. He pulled out his gun and calmly aimed the piece at the doll. Then he pulled the trigger.  
One shot rang out. Then another, followed by the sound of glass breaking. The doll's mouth had disappeared, along with it's mocking eyes. Only a blank face remained. Heero smiled then. He stood there, looking at the remnants of the Japanese doll. Reaching down beside him, he lifted up the paper next to him. Then, with both of his hands, he began tearing into little pieces the drawing he had spent hours construction. An odd feeling of satisfaction and release rose inside him as the last pieces of paper fell from his hands.  
'I am not a doll. I am not two dimensional.'  
'Do you really think that?' came an electronic voice.  
'Yes.'  
'Do you think you're human? Do you think you're three dimensional?'  
'Yes. I am.'  
'Heero. You need to be retrained.'  
Doors slammed wide open as a troop of men in black uniform entered the room. Heero whirled around to face them, his body tensed and ready for action. He fired the remaining shots at the soldiers, killing four before the gun emptied. Then he used his body. Two, three, four men. He dodged a fist and threw the fifth. Then he jerked. Something hard cracked against his head, and Heero fell into darkness.  
'He's young yet, but lethal,' rasped a heaving man. The man scowled and kicked at the unconscious boy. 'He nearly got me, instead of that poor bastard. I swear this job is getting to much for the risks. Keeping him here is good as going into battle. He's a killer.'  
'Yes. And what worries me is when they finally succeed in turning him into a killer machine.'  
The man shrugged and grabbed hold of a limp arm.  
'Let's get him out of here and back into his hole.'  
The other nodded, bending down to grasp the young boy's legs. He lifted the boy up.  
'Say... do you wonder why he shot the doll?'

Fin.


End file.
